


One More Try

by AJWrites1998



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Fever, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical and Emotional Pain, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:09:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24668155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJWrites1998/pseuds/AJWrites1998
Summary: Dakota has a high fever and thinks he's in literally in hell. Luckily, he has someone there to take care of him.Some self indulgent sickfic for you! Warning for self hate.
Relationships: Balthazar Cavendish/Vinnie Dakota
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	One More Try

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm going through my docs and posting some stuff so I hope you guys enjoy!

Dakota is hot.

He’s burning.

He’s unbearably hot, and he doesn’t know why. It’s hard to think, so he has trouble coming up with reasons he might be this hot.

After a while, he starts to think about turning the A/C on, or opening a window. That’s when he realizes he doesn’t know where he is, and he can’t move. All he sees is blank nothingness, dark and warm.

Where was he?

The heat almost seems to increase slightly, and he groans in pain. It’s more pain than he thinks he’s ever felt. That’s when he starts to wonder if he’s dead.

Death, he’d always assumed, would hurt more than anything he’s experienced. He’s no stranger to seeing it happen, of course. He’s almost memorized the anguish of watching the light leave Cavendish’s eyes, wondering if this time is the time he’ll lose all strength and not make it back to the car before he’s caught and Cavendish is gone for real.

It’s thoughts like that that’ll land him in hell.

Oh, right.

Hell.

That’s where he must be. He’s finally dead, done with all the shit he’s been handed in life, and now he’s in hell. Great.

He hears the sound like a door opening, and from the darkness Cavendish emerges. Dakota almost laughs. The devil punishes him like this. To watch Cavendish die again, it must be. The same torture he knew in life.

Cavendish looks concerned.

“Dakota, are you alright?” he asks, and Dakota wants to laugh, because God, he’s in hell, of course he’s not alright. Cavendish comes towards him, puts a hand to his forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”

Dakota lets out a half-laugh, half-groan at that one. It’s hell! That’s what he wants to say, but his vocal chords won’t work. They feel stuck together somehow, as if he hadn’t moved them in centuries. Who’s to say he hadn’t?  
“C’mon, let’s get you some medicine and a warm bath and you can sleep this off, we’ll see how you feel in the morning.” Cavendish says. A bath sounds good, but a warm bath sounds like hell. Which, he supposes, is correct. He can’t say anything, still.

It’s upsetting. He can’t even rely on his humor to get him through if he can’t say anything aloud. Sure, he can think it, but it’s more abstract that way. Not the same. That was the biggest thing this experience in hell had taken from him. 

Cavendish practically pries his lips apart. A liquid seeps through them, touching his tongue and leaving an awful taste there as it slides down his throat. Of course anything would taste like medicine in hell. He’d have to get used to it.

The next thing he feels is the sensation of water surrounding him. Is he drowning? He must be, there can be no other explanation. And yet, the water almost feels cold. Too cold, really. He shudders at it.

“I know, I know,” Cavendish says, “But it’ll help, I promise.”

He’s not sure what Cavendish means. Doesn’t he know Dakota deserves this? Doesn’t he know there’s no helping him now? If he could only have one more try at life...

He shouldn’t have done all of those things when he was alive. He should’ve been more attentive, especially around his first partner. He shouldn’t have picked fights with Cavendish. He shouldn’t have decided to get that stupid crush on Cavendish, or his first partner, and maybe he wouldn’t be here.

He shuts his thoughts off after that. He lets the water overtake him. If he’s going to drown in hell, there’s nothing he can do about it.

\-------

Dakota wakes up in his bed. He doesn’t know how long he was out, but he’s sure of one thing: he’s alive. He’s actually alive. 

Cavendish perks up at seeing him. 

“Oh, good, you’re awake. It’s really good to see you conscious.” Cavendish says, obvious relief flowing through him. He’s sitting in a chair next to the bed that he must’ve pulled up at some point, a damp, cool cloth in his hand patting at Dakota’s forehead. “You were really out of it earlier. You kept mumbling about something, and when I realized you had a fever I gave you some medicine and a bath, but you kept on mumbling. I could never tell what it was about. Were you dreaming?”

“Yeah,” Dakota says, as if he’s going to follow it with something, but is at a loss for words.

“Well, I hope it was a pleasant dream, whatever it was.” he says, showing him a small smile. Dakota returns it.

“Yeah. Sure was, Cav.” he says, taking Cavendish’s free hand in his own. “Sure was.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!


End file.
